


Part Time Daddy

by skyjoos



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: ABDL, Age Play, DDBL, Daddy Brendon, Daddy Kink, Daddy!Brendon, Discipline, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Supernanny AU, little Ryan, little!ryan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8709517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyjoos/pseuds/skyjoos
Summary: Brendon decides enough is enough when taking care of his bratty Little (and also part time boyfriend), Ryan. 
Based off the UK and USA show Supernanny!





	1. Chapter 1

“Ryan! Get back here now!” I shouted as I ran through our home, chasing my boyfriend of 3 years.

You’re probably wondering why I would have to chase a grown man in my own home, my grown boyfriend nonetheless. Well, it’s for that exact reason. He wasn’t entirely grown at the moment. My beautiful boyfriend of 3 long years, is a Little. A Little is a grown adult who in some way acts younger than their actual age. This can be an insignificant age gap from being 21 but acting like a 16 year old. Or a very large age gap like being 24 and acting like a 3 year old. Ryan falls into the latter category.

Ryan revealed his desire to be a Little about 6 months into our relationship. Of course, he thought I’d reject his strange subspace and possibly leave him. But being the good and sensible boyfriend I am, I accepted my boyfriend. And over the course of a few months, we fell into a schedule between me being a sexy and lovable boyfriend, to a responsible and doting Daddy. At first, I thought Ryan calling me Daddy would creep me out or scare me in way. But, it’s actually a very nice title to have over someone. I like the fact that I am responsible for someone who can’t take care of themselves. Especially someone as cute and amazing as Ryan.

We’ve been part time boyfriends and part time Daddy/Little for over two years now and the daily activities and events are normality’s to us now. Currently, our more sexual side of relationship –where we call each other boyfriends- has been wonderful. Of course, there’s the usual small fight or bicker but we have a really strong bond. But our Daddy/Little relationship is hard, on me specifically. It’s so easy for Ryan to be both my boyfriend and my Little. But it’s difficult for me to be both a boyfriend and a Daddy for him. Ryan’s behavior is significantly different once he’s in subspace. As a Little, he’s honestly a big brat. I usually can handle his sideway attitude but for the past month, he’s been worse than ever. I haven’t talked about this to him when he’s not in subspace because we treat Little Ryan and Daddy Brendon like different people.

I love my boyfriend and my Little and I know Ryan loves both his boyfriend and his Daddy. But the separation between the two is tearing one side of our relationship apart. I don’t want to stop being Ryan’s Daddy. It’s why I fight so hard for this to get better. It’s also why I’m chasing him through our house.

“Ryan, stop running or you’ll be punished!” I shout as I dodge our glass coffee table in the living room.

“Okay!” Ryan shouts from behind him, giggling all the while.

It’s almost like he wants to be punished! He stops once he reaches the kitchen, realizing he can’t escape. I corner him in between the counter and the wall. I grab his arm and nearly drag him back to the living room where I place him in front of the corner of the room, where two yellow walls meet, only a few feet from the door.

“Turn around and face the corner for 5 minutes. Don’t move your nose from that wall, mister,” I say to Ryan in the most threatening voice I can muster at 8 in the morning in front of the world’s most adorable boy.

All he does is giggle and stick his tongue out. I sigh. Just as always, he’s refusing a punishment.

“Ryan, you _will_ face that wall or else,” I say.

“Or else what?” Ryan says in his subspace voice.

God dammit. He always says that. I constantly think he just wants me to be angry at him all the time. I don’t answer and force him to turn around and face the damn wall. I walk away, hoping he’ll for once listen to me. He of course, doesn’t. Ryan’s body is quickly turned around again, and he’s smiling at me. I just sit on the couch. It’s too early for me to yell at him. Ryan jumps from his position in the corner and bounces up the stairs. Most likely heading to his special room. I sigh and put my head in my hands, realizing I’ve just let him get away with whatever he wants again.

I have no idea how actual parents can deal with kids. It’s not like they can shake their kids out of a headspace and ask them what’s wrong and speak to them like an adult. They have to grow up and even after that, it’s still hard to talk to them like an adult. That makes me wonder about my mom. According to her, I was the most annoying and bratty of kids for years. Until she met this woman who was some kind of specialist on children behavior analysis. She said once that the woman taught her new ways to discipline me and my older siblings. She told her what she doing wrong and what needed improvement.

God, if only that woman were here now. Or in the very least, my mom. Well, I mean my mom would be easier to reach. I could just call her and ask – wait. No I can’t! My mom doesn’t know a thing about mine and Ryan’s secret side to our relationship. Maybe it’s time to let her know? I mean, it has been over two years. Besides, she adores Ryan. No, I can’t tell her that, not without Ryan’s permission. His _adult_ permission. I slump further into the couch, maybe I could make up a lie. Tell her it’s for a friend. Tell her it’s out of curiosity. I look over at my phone on the glass coffee table. And pick it up.

I dial her number. In seconds, she answers.

“Hi Mom,” I say into the phone.

“Hi sweetheart! You’ve haven’t answered your father’s calls, he wants to know if you and Ryan are coming over for Christmas. Ooo! Also, Barbra called and said her dog just had another litter of puppies! And Jesus, Bren. They are the cutest lil’ things!” My mom rushed out in one breath.

I laugh, “Yes, we’ll be over. And tell Barb I said to post a few pictures on Facebook. But Mom, remember when you told me I was a brat and you had some lady come over and teach you how to,” I clear my throat, “discipline me?”

It sounds weird asking my mother such a bizarre question, but thankfully me and my mom share a tight bond.

“Oh yes! You were an awfully annoying little brat. Ha! This lovely woman named Jo, who had the funniest accent, reached out to me through an ad. She taught me so much, Bren. I almost wish I had another kid after you to discipline! What about her?” Said my mother through the phone.

“Well, I was wondering if you could tell me some of the stuff she told you about. Like what she taught you to make me not so annoying,” I smile as I say that.

“I guess I should start with all the annoying things you did that I needed help with then, huh? Well, for starters..,” she began.

I sighed and laid even further into the couch as she began to ramble.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon has his first call of action as a proper Part time Daddy. But Ryan isn't at all happy with his new found authority.

After countless hours (it was actually about 30 minutes) of my mom rambling, she finally said she’d tell me more later because she had a pot roast going. That was a whole 30 minutes of annoying things I did as a kid and what Jo told her to do about it. Things ranging from me refusing to eat my vegetables to me refusing to sleep. I guess I really didn’t want to do anything as a kid. My mom said the first thing Jo told her was to never give in to me. And that’s exactly what I plan to do with Ryan.

I constantly give in to Ryan because I think there’s a difference between parenting an actual child and a little. But what else can I do? Ryan does have the headspace of the average toddler so maybe trying it will actually work as if he’s a real kid. I check the time. It’s already 12 o’clock. Lunch time for Ryan. I make it back up to the playroom and open the door.

“Hi, Daddy!” Ryan says when I walk in the room.

He’s wearing a loose blue shirt and socks. No bottoms. I mentally groan when I realize that this will be my first call of business. I need to successfully dress Ryan, or at least put pants on him. I put on my best ‘you’re-in-a-lot-of-trouble’ face.

“Ryan, where are your bottoms?” I ask

Ryan looks down, “I took ‘em off.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I wanna..., I can do what I want.”

I frown, “No Ry, you can’t do anything you want. You need to put pants on.”

Ryan just frowns and goes back to coloring in a Strawberry ShortCake coloring book. I go over to our room and from Ryan’s dresser, pull out a pair of shorts. Ryan only ever wears shorts when he’s little so it has a cute image of a monster on the bottom left leg. I come back with the pants and pull Ryan’s arm to stand him up.

“No! I wanna color!” Ryan protests.

“Ryan, you’re getting up and putting these shorts on or you’re going in time out,” I say authoritatively.

Ryan looks back at me, blue crayon gripped in his hand and says, “I don’t wanna wear shorts, Daddy.”

“Do you wanna go in time out, then?” I ask, my brow hinting at the possibility of a punishment if he answers wrong.

“No time out! No shorts!”

“If you don’t behave and put the shorts on, you’re going in time out for 10 minutes. You’re not going to treat Daddy like this anymore. Now, be a good boy for me and put the shorts on,” I say one last time.

I’m honestly feeling really good about this whole authority thing. But after my last remark, Ryan looks up at me and Jesus Christ. There he goes with the fake, crocodile tears. His perfectly plump lips jutting out as he gives fake sobs. I hate when he does this. Even when I’m really angry, I fall for it. But this was the number one thing Jo told my mom never do to: Give in.

“Ryan Ross, stop it with the tears. You’re going in time out whether you like it or not. You had a choice and you chose to misbehave,” I say while I drag him to the corner of the room.

“I-I’m sorry Daddy, I won’t be bad no more. Please let me color, I’ll wear the shorts,” Ryan begs.

“No, Ryan. Like I said, you had a choice and you chose to be bad. You’re in time out now,” I say as I force him to face the corner.

Ryan lets out a loud whine. I stand behind him, ready for him to try to escape. But as I stand there for two of his ten minutes, he doesn’t make an attempt to escape. He stands, facing the corner, lightly crying and covering his face. It almost breaks my heart. I leave the room and once his ten minutes are up, I go back to see Ryan still obediently standing still in the corner. He’s still upset when I grab his shoulder and turn him around.

“Your times up, baby. What do you say?”

“I-I’m s-s-sorry D-Daddy, I’ll wear the shorts,” Ryan says through tears.

I smile and wipe his tears away, “I know, baby. Thank you for being so good for Daddy.”

“I was good?” Ryan asks.

“You didn’t try to run away and you made it through your time out. You didn’t yell or scream at me either. And you knew what you did wrong.”

“I didn’t like time out, Daddy…”

“Then don’t be so bad and you won’t go there often,” I say and take his hand in mine, “Now, let’s eat lunch so you can get ready for your nap.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

It was now 12 o’clock. Ryan was coloring at the dinner table while I made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and green beans. I knew that the green beans would get some kind of negative response from my little. But that was all a part of the plan. I wanted to test my parenting skills again and see how I would handle an unhappy little would didn’t want to eat his vegetables.

“Ryan, your lunch is ready,” I said as I carried the plate of food and placed it in front of him on the table.

Ryan looked up at the plate and I could see a scowl of disgust on his face. He pushed the plate aside and kept coloring one of Strawberry Shortcake’s friends with a dull blue crayon.

“Ryan, you have to eat your food,” I warned.

“I’m not eating the green beans, daddy,” Ryan said without looking up.

“That’s not an option, baby. You’re eating all your food or else you’ll be in trouble. Remember the time out corner? I’m sure you wouldn’t want to go back, would you?”

Ryan looked up at me with big eyes. For at least two minutes, he gave me the puppy dog eyes and nearly made me submit. But eventually, he looked down from my gaze. He sighed and pulled the plate over his coloring book and dug into the sandwich. I smiled in triumph. I walked back to the living room and started flipping through channels. I wasn’t even three minutes in a Judge Judy rerun, when I heard something from the kitchen shatter. I quickly ran to see the damage and my blood boiled.

Ryan stood on the kitchen floor, surrounded by broken glass from the plate he eat off of. And scattered on the floor were the damn green beans. Seeing as how many there were, he didn’t touch a single one. He smirked at me and then stuck his tongue out.

“Ryan!” I screamed.

Ryan seemed genuinely terrified as I lifted him from the floor, making sure that neither of us stepped on any glass shards, and carried him to the living room. He squirmed in my arms until we finally made it to the couch. I sat down and pulled Ryan over my lap, I was completely enraged. I was over 10 spanks in when I realized I had broken one of Jo’s golden rules: If you spank them, it’s still giving in.

I completely gave in to Ryan by releasing my anger on him. I stopped spanking him and laid my arm over his back. He kept squirming in my arms and cried hysterically. I can’t believe I went against my promise. I tried to hold him close to chest to make him stop crying.

“I’m sorry, Ry. I shouldn’t have spanked you. I’m sorry,” I pleaded over and over.

“Get off! Leave me alone!” Ryan screamed back.

I was too upset to feel Ryan’s grip on my shirt grow stronger, as if he was going to tear it off. I just kept trying to pull him closer.

“I said get the fuck off, Brendon!”

Ryan’s attitude suddenly changed. He wasn’t my annoying, loud little. He was my pissed off boyfriend. I let go of him and he quickly pushed himself off my lap. He pulled his boxers and pants back up once he on the floor. He stared back at me with angry eyes and ran upstairs.

I had broken two golden rules today. Jo’s rule of ‘don’t give in’. And Ryan’s rule of ‘don’t ever spank me’.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Brendon finally talk.

Hi my name’s Brendon and I am the world’s worst boyfriend. And Daddy.

I went against one of the two rules Ryan ever had: Don’t spank him. This was Ryan’s first rule when we started becoming Little and Daddy. At first, I thought he wanted me spank him and that’s why he told me. A kinky sort of thing or something. Boy was I wrong. Ryan freaked out when I spanked him during sex. He had a panic attack and told me after that he hated being spanked because of the abuse he suffered from his dad. I knew Ryan was abused only a few weeks into our relationship. But it apparently really bothered him. Ever since, I never touched him like that again. So, why had I done so just now?

I don’t fucking know.

And there I sat. Looking dead at the floor and almost wanting to die. I just ruined an amount of trust with my wonderful and sexy boyfriend. I know he’ll be in our bedroom right now, not in his special play room. He’s definitely crying somewhere. Probably on the floor or the bed. I don’t want him crying. I don’t want him hurting. I need to do something. I need to help him. But I can’t. I’m the reason he’s crying.

And I feel horrible for it.

I get up from my spot on the couch, his weight never really leaving my lap. I stand and walk up the stairs as quietly as possible. I peak into our room but don’t see Ryan. I open the door, remaining silent. But I still don’t see him.

“Ryan?” I softly call out.

It takes a few moments for me to hear a soft cry. Muffled and muted from somewhere in the room. I walk into the room, my eyes searching. Another cry. And I know where it is now.

I open the closet gently and my heart breaks. There he is, a small ball on the carpeted closet floor.

“Aww, baby...,” I coo.

I kneel down to gently brush his hair away from his face. A sob breaks the contact as he shuffles further away.

“Please, I-I know I messed up. Really bad… I love you and I’m so sorry and I…,” I trailed off.

Silence. He’s thinking about his words. Which means he’s not entirely out of headspace yet. And it might take him a long time to fall out of it.

“I know.”

His voice. So quiet and soft. I thought for a second, he was angry. But then his head slowly lifted.

“I know,” he repeated and smiled.

And it was then I knew we’d be okay.

~

It was several hours later, with Ryan laying on top of me. I gently stroked his head while I watched whatever new episode of Criminal Minds was playing. Ryan hasn’t said a word since the situation. I know his mind is fogged. It usually takes Ryan a few hours to fall out of headspace. The best remedy for that is a ‘big boy show’. Something like Criminal Minds, Law & Order, or Ru Pal’s easily drags Ryan’s ‘big boy’ out.

So here we were. Laying on the couch, watching a rerun of Criminal Minds.

“Bren…,” Ryan says unsurely.

I hum in response. I don’t hear any reply. I brushed it off and kept watching the rerun. It took another 10 minutes. Ryan was quick to turn around and lay his weight the opposite way, his chin laid playfully on my chest.

“Bren…”

I knew that voice. Any other time, I would gratefully accept the invitation to have sex. But this time felt different. I looked down at the boy on my chest.

“Ry, is something wrong..?”

Ryan’s brow furrowed, “Jesus Fuck, I only want to fuck you.”

“I can tell, trust me. But, you’re usually not in the mood after … Well, ya know…,” I trailed off.

“No, I don’t know, Brendon. Tell me,” Ryan demanded.

I scoffed, “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb.”

“We need to talk, don’t we?”

I looked away, muting the TV.

“Yeah, I think we do,” I agreed.

Ryan stayed silent for a while, staring at the muted commercial on the TV. I sat up, causing my boyfriend to sit up as well.

“I feel like we treat Little Ryan and Daddy Brendon like different people,” I said, ending the silence.

“Well, aren’t they?”

“Should they be? I think we’re separating ourselves too much from them. And it makes it fell like we’re living two different lives. I can be your Daddy and your boyfriend at the same time. I can be both of them whenever you need them,” I said.

“To me, Little Ryan is really different from this me … He has different needs. Ya know, babe?”

“I do. We’ll just have to find a way to keep you both happy,” I replied.

“You know,” Ryan began, “If someone overheard us, they’d think we are fucking _insane._ ”

And just like that, the tension faded away. We laughed so hard, gently pushing each other playfully, barley able to catch our breaths. It took us a while before we sighed it off and Ryan returned to his spot on my chest and I unmuted the TV.

“So can we have sex now?”

**Author's Note:**

> Brendon describes his and Ryan' relationship. He later fails to properly discipline Ryan and decides to call his mother for advice.


End file.
